


It Always Comes Back

by OliTamale



Category: lgbt+ - Fandom, original character - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 01:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliTamale/pseuds/OliTamale
Summary: “Throw you into the lake,” Pax finished the sentence for him, in an over-exaggerated deep voice that was meant to mock the human barricade. “You think I haven’t heard you give that same old rant a thousand times, Samson?” Pax watched the angry face grow confused as the boy, well man now, squinted at him suspiciously. He hated being called Samson and Pax knew this all to well. He grinned, bringing a hand up to his hip as he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. “Do you really not remember me?” He gasped dramatically, bringing that same hand over their mouth as if they were in a teen romance movie. “After all those kisses I tried to steal from you in the barn and all those angry lectures you would give me about personal space and being too friendly?” Pax kept looking at him with that amused expression and a lopsided smile that made him seem younger than he actually was.“Pax?” Sam took a step back, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy and Pax laughed at him, twirling a bit as if to show off his new look. Samson didn’t bother with subtleties, looking the lanky figure up and down a couple of times in disbelief.





	1. Chapter 1

He hadn’t expected to meet him this way. Hadn’t thought those broad shoulders would completely block hi view of the stables, completely shut them out from the only place he had ever felt he belonged. And well, that pouty lip and those green eyes still looked as annoyed as ever, but in a more mature way, maybe disgruntled was the word for it now. The brunette crossed his arms over his chest, parallel with the lines of his plaid shirt and as he rambled on and on about why he wouldn’t be allowed in. Some things never change, he supposed. The taller man zoned out a bit, brown eyes trained on green, but mind in another world. A world where those buttons couldn’t take it anymore and one by one, they popped off to reveal what he imagined to be a body carved by Davinci himself. Was Davinci the one that carved? Maybe it was Donatello, or was that a ninja turtle? Warhol was the one with the soup cans and Monet the landscapes. DiCaprio an actor, that he wouldn’t forget, no he couldn’t forget the dozen magazine cutouts he kept hidden under this bed nor could he forget the time his father discovered them.  
“Are you even listening to me? This is private property and I will-“Pax didn’t give the brunette a chance to finish, smiling a little as he brushed uneven orange hair out of their face. It was pointless though because the longer hair simply fell back over his eye a moment later.  
“Throw you into the lake,” Pax finished the sentence for him, in an overexaggerated deep voice that was meant to mock the human barricade. “You think I haven’t heard you give that same old rant a thousand times, Samson?” Pax watched the angry face grow confused as the boy, well man now, squinted at him suspiciously. He hated being called Samson and Pax knew this all to well. He grinned, bringing a hand up to his hip as he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. “Do you really not remember me?” He gasped dramatically, bringing that same hand over their mouth as if they were in a teen romance movie. “After all those kisses I tried to steal from you in the barn and all those angry lectures you would give me about personal space and being too friendly?” Pax kept looking at him with that amused expression and a lopsided smile that made him seem younger than he actually was.  
“Pax?” Sam took a step back, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy and Pax laughed at him, twirling a bit as if to show off his new look. Samson didn’t bother with subtleties, looking the lanky figure up and down a couple of times in disbelief. Pax hadn’t expected to be recognized, not with the pixie cut he was sporting these days and the dozen random tattoos scattered over his right forearm. He’d somehow managed to get lankier too, not that the lose fitting jeans and cropped shirt helped his figure appear any fuller.  
“The one and only,” Pax mused. Sam stood and stared at him for another minute, mouth agape until Pax stepped forward to shut it for him. Rough hair prickled his smooth fingers, but it didn’t bother him. Facial hair was welcomed change, it looked good on Samson. Pax lingered there, tenderly stroking Sam’s chin in his state of shock. “Are you going to let me in or what?” Sam seemed to snap out of his trance because he jumped, swatting at Pax’s hand and scowling at him as he usually did when Pax overstepped boundaries. He let him in without another word, leading Pax towards the house as if he didn’t already know how to get there.  
A wave of nostalgia crashed over the faux redhead as they walked across the field between the stables and the house. So many months had been spent here working for his spot in the barn, avoiding his real home and his real parents and pretending to be part of this family, Sam’s family. So many times, Pax felt like he actually was part of the family, joining in on dinners and going to all the concerts and dance recitals and sports games and even getting Christmas gifts and birthday gifts from the Dunhills. More importantly he remembered how deeply he’d fallen for the man walking ahead of him, the man who hadn’t changed a bit, the same one who Pax had ran out on so many years ago without a word. He almost felt bad, but Pax knew that it had been for the best. Sam didn’t seem to care much anyway, but Sam hadn’t been interested in anything but horses since Pax met him all those years ago. And clearly, that was still true because the brunette made sure to give each and every horse, he encountered in the pasture a pat as the two of them walked through it. It was his own silent way of telling them he cared and a couple of times he even pulled some treats out of his pockets to offer them. Pax found this all incredibly amusing and couldn’t help but wonder if Samson carried horse treats in his pockets all the time, the idea was incredibly endearing.  
They entered through the back door, straight into the kitchen where the closest thing Pax had ever had to a father stood. More memories flashed over him as he looked at the back of Mr. Dunhill’s head and down his body, just to make sure he was actually in front of them. He clearly still did some riding here and there; Pax could tell just by looking at him. He was all legs, five feet and nine inches of toned legs. There was no way a fifty-year-old could look that good otherwise and if it weren’t for the fact that this man was like a father to him, Pax would’ve turned on the charm. He still kept his hair long, currently it flowed down his back in a thick braid and Pax wondered if he wore extensions. Pax had attempted to grow out his own hair a few years back but was far too lazy to take care of it. He wondered how Nori had the time to take care of his hair like that with seven kids running around. How old were they all now? Pax couldn’t imagine Aria and Jazz as anything but annoying eight-year olds, even though they were probably eighteen by now. He hadn’t seen anyone else when they’d come in but figured the other kids would be showing up for mandatory family dinner sooner or later, unless Nori was chopping what seemed like a pound of vegetables for Samson and the other Mr. Dunhill. Pax smiled a little to himself, remembering how many times Nori’s husband had stuck him on chopping duty. It was the only thing the man could be trusted to do without somehow burning down the entire house or almost losing a finger. Nori was a man of many talents, but the kitchen was certainly not a place he belonged.  
Sam stepped over to his father in that slow, cautious manner of his. It reminded Pax of the way you were meant to approach horses, gentle and soft as to not startle them. He wondered if Sam realized that people weren’t horses. Probably not. The thought made him smile. Samson’s social skills had never been particularly good, despite having two outgoing parents and an army of siblings to compete against. Not that Samson had to fight for attention, Nori had always had a strong bond with him. Samson was after all, the only Dunhill child that had taken any interest in horses and being the first born was also an added bonus. Pax had kept up with his career for a while, watched him do shows, and noticed as Samson eventually buckled under the pressure of his father’s career. It had to be difficult to shine in the shadow of an ex-olympian. Pax supposed he was lucky in that sense; he would never have to live in anyone’s shadow when he had no one.  
It felt like an eternity had passed since Samson had brought him in here and Pax was beginning to lose his patience. Clearly, the brunette was not telling his father about his ever-important presence or the older man would’ve turned to great his favorite child that wasn’t actually his child already. So, Pax took matters into his own hands. He cleared his throat obnoxiously, standing a little taller as he strutted over to the island where Nori stood. “Mother, I’m home,” he mused in that grandiose way that princes and princesses are introduced at balls. He stole a carrot stick off of the cutting board as he waited for Nori to turn around. He was sure the man hadn’t been called “mother” in years based on the look of complete and utter shock that came across his face. Pax had started the joke after all, constantly thanking the man for being more of a mom than his true mother had ever been, and apparently the joke had left with him. Nori stood there, mouth agape just as Samson had earlier by the gate, almost as if he was looking at a ghost. Pax couldn’t really blame him for that, but he did throw out a teasing “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” before he was snatched into Nori’s embrace. It was much harder for Pax to bury himself in Nori’s chest now that he was taller than him. Yet, the feelings were all the same. Nori had a way of filling people with warmth and security just by touching them. There was never a time where that man hadn’t radiated acceptance and understanding, no matter who you were. It was what had made Pax love him so much. “Surprised?” He questioned, pulling away to get a better look at him.  
“Surprised?” Nori repeated in disbelief, jabbing a long, pointy finger into Pax’s shoulder in a scolding manner. “I am furious.” He put his hands on his hips, meeting Pax with that stern gaze that only a mother could manage. He was looking at him with that familiar angry squint, except these eyes were brown; and well, it had thrown Pax for a loop because Nori had never looked at him that way; not even when he first started working on the ranch and all the chickens escaped because Pax didn’t lock the gate properly. He could still hear poor Ms. Redfoot’s clucking as she drowned in the lake, it still made him cry sometimes. He had tried so hard to save the hen, but she died in a panicked commotion that no one would ever let him live down. He’d come back to the house ready for a lecture that night, but instead the Dunhills declared a “Family Bonfire” to commemorate the late hen and nobody made Pax feel better about it than Nori had, even if “Chicken Murderer” jokes were thrown at him consistently for the next year from all members of the Dunhill family.  
The redhead felt small under Nori’s gaze and for once he had no words. What was he supposed to say when the only person he could remotely consider a parent was looking at him so angrily? An I’m sorry surely wouldn’t make the cut, so Pax stood there waiting for the man to speak again, but when he did he didn’t feel any better. He felt worse.


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” Nori still held the knife in his hand, raising it as he spoke. For a minute, Pax almost thought he was about to be murdered and dumped into the lake behind the ranch. It’s not like anyone would be looking for him, so it would be a clean get away. “You disappeared. You left without a word. I took you in like my own, I treated you like you were part of this family and you left because you’re ungrateful and selfish and all you ever wanted was to take from us.” Nori swung the knife around as he spoke, clearly unaware of what he was doing. But Samson seemed to have heard Pax’s thoughts because he stepped over to his father and cautiously withdrew the knife from his hands. He set it down into the sink and slipped out the back door, thinking he’d made a clean escape to the stables, but Pax had noticed, and he’d be sure to complain about it plenty later one. If he was allowed on the property that was.  
“Nori,” Pax didn’t know where to begin. “I’m sorry.”  
“You’re sorry?” Nori shook his head in disbelief, “I spent months worrying about you, thinking something happened to you. I went to your house; I was so scared that your parents might’ve done something to you. But they didn’t know where you were either and they didn’t even seem that interested in finding you. Instead I had to sit and listen to some spewl about Jesus and how I needed to be saved and cleansed, how my children needed to be corrected. I did that for you, but you don’t care. You never cared about anything I did for you, did you?” It was obvious that Nori was struggling to hold back angry tears. Pax was struggling with his own tears. The last thing he ever wanted was to make Nori cry, Nori who he owed his life to. Nori who had fought for him so hard. Pax didn’t know how he would ever redeem himself.  
Pax stepped forward hesitantly, loosely grabbing at the man’s wrist to bring him closer. “I cared; I still care. I never meant to hurt you. I-I…” Pax was struggling to come up with the right words, embracing Nori fully in the same way a child hugs a teddy bear at bedtime because even when he was in the wrong Pax still turned to Nori for comfort. “I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there any longer, with them. And yeah, I had this place, but only for a few hours. Nights at home, they felt like years. And then one night I heard them talking about some Christian Camp and I knew I had to leave. I should’ve told you, I know, but I didn’t want to drag you into my mess any further. You’d already done so much for me and…” Pax let himself cry now, tears running down his cheeks and into Nori’s black hair. He couldn’t give a sufficient explanation no matter how hard he tried. And it hurt because all he wanted was to do right by the man in his arms, the one that he looked up to so much. “I wasn’t yours, Nori. I know you tried to treat me like I was, but I never was. I didn’t fit in with your family, not completely. There were seven kids here already, I didn’t want to be an added burden. It was better if I left.” Pax sighed, rubbing Nori’s shoulders as he cried. It was strange being the one to comfort him. The roles had never been reversed before and Pax was sure he was doing a mediocre job, but he didn’t dare stop.  
“I wanted to find myself,” he admitted softly. “I was selfish in that sense. I wanted to know who I was outside of the Christian hell I lived in, but I also wanted to know who I was when outside of here. I wanted to discover who I was on my own, not who I was when I relied on everyone else to take care of me or tell me who I was supposed to be.”  
Nori pushed back against Pax’s shoulder’s, pulling away from him. “That is so stupid,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “You were sixteen years old, you needed people to take care of you and tell you what to do. It’s part of growing up. You were a child, Pax. You didn’t need to go off on your own, your life isn’t a movie.”  
Pax chuckled a little at that, shrugging. “But it’s a lot more fun if you treat it like one.” Nori wasn’t the first person to try and take Pax out of the clouds, but the redhead never seemed to listen. He liked living in his mind, liked thinking of shining lights and clouds and over dramatic situations, probably to cover up the real problems in his life. “I’m sorry, Nori. I really am and I know sorry doesn’t cut it, but maybe gifts will?” He shook the bag on his shoulder for emphasis, wiping a few stray tears of his face.  
“I don’t forgive you,” Nori jabbed Pax’s chest with his finger again. “But gifts will certainly bring you one step closer.” He still didn’t smile at him, still pursed his lips in that unimpressed way. It was clear that Pax was a long way from redemption, from being part of the family again. Maybe they should have let Nori keep the knife, it would’ve hurt less than this. “Now, get out of here so I can finish chopping. Matthew will be home soon.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Dinner was awkward. Pax sat across from Sam with Nori to his left and Matthew, Nori’s husband, to his right. Basically, surrounding him as if they were worried he was going to be leaving again. Nobody said anything. Matthew had greeted Pax timidly, completely out of character, and had looked to Nori the whole time trying to understand if he should be happy or not. It had been awful on both ends. Pax always liked Matthew. He had always seemed so young and outgoing, even know with the gray hairs that were starting to sprout all over his head, Pax saw him as the man in his mid-thirties. The one that would run around after his children, filming everything they did and teaching them all kinds of sports. He’d always been the “hot” dad, athletic and jock-like but with the biggest heart. He and Nori were what Pax pictured to be the perfect couple. Even after twenty-five years of marriage, Pax could see the love between them. They looked at each other across the table with heart eyes, probably playing a game of footsies. He was glad their bond was as strong as ever, glad nobody else had hurt Nori like he did.  
Other plates had been set, which meant others would be joining them. Pax hoped it was the other Dunhill children. He couldn’t help but wonder what they had been up to. Were they married? Did any of them have kids? Are they famous? Who were they now? Where were they now? He let his mind wander, imagining all sorts of situations for the other. He messed with his fork, barely listening to the conversation going on around him. Hopefully having more people around would ease the ever-growing tension in the air. It didn’t.  
Ben had been the first to arrive. With a family. A wife. A baby. Pax was in shock. Despite being twins, Ben an Sam had completely different temperaments and personalities. They had the same suspicious eyes though. Ben had been confused by Pax’s presence, had even cracked a joke about Samson finally finding someone; but his tone completely changed when he found out who he was. “Pax? The Pax?” he questioned, clutching his daughter in his arms protectively. Did he think Pax was going to run off with her and raise her in the woods? Well, Pax did think she was adorable so maybe. She had her father’s eyes, those piercing almond shaped green eyes, but Pax saw a lot of her mother in her face. For a moment he felt a pang of jealousy. Nori diffused that situation, barely, and eventually Benjamin situated himself between Sam and his wife, across the table from Pax. Nobody had dared to sit directly beside him yet and little by little the one place he had thought of has home was becoming a cold and lonely place.  
The table didn’t get any less awkward while they waited for Blaze’s arrival, the conversation consisted mostly of the baby’s recent accomplishments. Pax discovered that Jaime was old enough to start walking, or rather to move around by holding on to things. He made faces at her from across the table, but she was just as unamused with him as her father had been. When Blaze did arrive, he was alone. And well, that made sense. Blaze was probably the angriest person Pax had ever met, and he was only thirteen when Pax left. Apparently that anger had only grown as he aged. He didn’t pay Pax much attention, but the two had never been close. He had been the only Dunhill child without a twin and the only one that didn’t have dark hair. Blaze stood out like a sore thumb with his naturally red hair and blue eyes. He was shorter, had freckles, and was practically a carbon copy of his biological father. Pax always found him intriguing, he was different. His bond with his siblings had never been that strong and he favored spending time with Nori. They had the closest relationship, possibly closer than Samson and Nori, because Blaze had called Nori after he lost his virginity. Matthew earned his fair share of Blaze time as well, teaching him to cook and instilling a love for the kitchen in the child. Blaze left a chair between him and Pax, busy telling his parents about his new promotion. He was officially the cook in some fancy restaurant downtown.  
Pax was starving by the time Ash arrived. Apparently, the dancer was always late, despite the fact that she still lived at home. And apparently, she went by Jazz now; had decided that her middle name was better suited for the dance world than her first name. She didn’t remember Pax, had only been eight when he left, and she gladly took the seat next to him. She was one of the more outgoing siblings, was just like her father in that sense and very quickly delve into a conversation about school and dance club and whatever else went on in a teenage girl’s life. Pax wondered where Aria was, had never seen Jazz go anywhere without her twin, but refrained from asking in hopes that they wouldn’t have to wait for anyone else.  
They didn’t. But from that moment, dinner dragged on slower than the waiting had. Everybody was talking and laughing but Pax felt excluded. He didn’t know any of them, not like he used to, and none of them seemed interested in getting to know him either. Maybe it was all part of his punishment, part of Nori’s slow path to forgiveness and Pax couldn’t do anything but ride it out. He rolled the peas around on his plate, glancing around the table and feeling a twinge of sadness. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret leaving. It had been the best decision he’d made in his entire life and he only hoped to get to share his experiences with Nori and Sam at some point.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sam escorted Pax out to the barn later that night. They’d allowed him to stay in the barn loft. The space had been recently renovated, and if Pax hadn’t seen it from the outside, he would’ve thought it was a room in the house. The grey wood floor paired nicely with the white and teal accents around the room and the tiny fireplace on the backwall gave the place a homey feeling. The grey sofa folded out into a bed and there was even a bathroom and a kitchenette. Pax was impressed. He glanced around the room, looking at the different art pieces and photos that hung around. It was mostly horses and flowers but there were a couple of family photos scattered around. Pax would analyze them further once he was alone.  
Sam dropped the bag of pillows and blankets behind the couch and stepped around it to show Pax how to pull out the bed. “Sometimes you have to wiggle it a little because it gets stuck,” he explained, but Pax was more interested in the way the muscles of his back moved when he pulled. Even through that awful plaid shirt, Pax could tell working on the ranch had done wonders for Sam’s figure. He was basically drooling at the thought.  
“Got it.” He’d like to wiggle other things, maybe wiggle Sam out of those jeans and into his sheets. And really he shouldn’t even be thinking about it, not when he was in this much trouble with him. But how could he not daydream about him? Pax daydreamed about him at sixteen and he would continue to do so at twenty-six. He made an effort to distract himself by pulling the sheets out of the bag and attempting to make the bed, which was much more difficult than it seemed because every time he thought he’d gotten the sheet fitted onto the mattress the opposite corner would pop off.  
The brunette almost laughed at him, stepping over to help him. “Don’t wanna be here all night.” Sam worked on the opposite side of the bed, tugging the sheets so that it fit snuggly against the mattress and hooking it down on the corner. He made it seem effortless, while Pax stood there staring and panting because he was completely out of shape. Sam grabbed the floral print pillows and matching blanket and spread them out on the bed.  
He plopped down onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. “What would I do without you? My knight in shinning armor,” he mused, craning his neck to get a better look at the other man. The position was highly uncomfortable, but worth it just to look at Sam, even if he was upside down from this angle.  
“Need me to tuck you in too?” Sam retorted, snickering at Pax’s dramatics.  
“Well, of course. A princess should never tuck herself in,” he replied in that matter-of-fact tone he used whenever he said something utterly ridiculous. He wiggled around the bed like some kind of giant worm until his head made it to the pillow, slipped under the blanket and lifted his arms expectantly. He hadn’t expected Sam to comply, but suddenly the shorter man walked around the bed and tucked the corners around Pax snugly. Pax dropped his arms as he was advised to, looking up at the brunette as he was about to step away. They were extremely close for a minute, so close he could feel Sam’s breath on his lips. And Pax didn’t even realize it when he started to lean in. Sam hadn’t either, but he put he pulled away rapidly before Pax had a chance to touch him.  
“Goodnight, Pax.” He was gone before the redhead had a chance to wish him a good night back.


End file.
